"Bismillah!" said Yusuf, at this conclusive argument, joining at once in their hard fare. He then asked, "Has the Soudan Cafila pa.s.sed, or is it expected? and am I far from its track?"

"We have just left the track," said the Arab, who had last spoken; "the Cafila was to reach the last halting-place"--here he pointed north--"last night. They will rest at mid-day, and should soon be here.

But, O Jew! have you goods in the Cafila? Behold, we have broken bread together; take your camels and return, for danger is before you. The Sheik of the Sebae is at war with the Sultan. Lo, you are warned; our faith is clean."

"Your bread is sacred; hear the truth; I have no goods nor camels; I go to seek the tents of the Sheik himself, and only accompany the Cafila until I can procure a guide thither."

"If so, you have started in a fortunate hour. I will direct you; when you come to the second well in the desert,--should nothing happen before, for we know not what is written,--ask any Arab to guide you to the Chief, for he is not far thence. Be cautious, though you have nothing to lose--you travel with merchants. Remember the proverb, 'If you put your head in bran, the fowls will peck it.' Lo! I see the Cafila approaching."

Yusuf turned his eyes in the direction where the smooth desert was broken into low sand-hills, among which the long train was seen slowly winding onwards, and, although at a great distance, the loaded camels and their drivers could be seen, magnified by the evening mirage, like gaunt spectres against the horizon.

"May you be rewarded, friend," said Yusuf; "I am warned; but the infidel puts his trust in G.o.d."

The Arabs smiled as Yusuf remounted, and with salutations of Peace, he rode off; and before it was dark had joined the Cafila.

These caravans are composed of traders, who periodically a.s.semble to traverse the Desert in company for mutual protection. They sometimes take guards, but their chief security is in the tribute they pay to the Arab tribes through which they pa.s.s. They carry manufactured goods and wares to Soudan and Timbuctoo, bringing back in exchange ivory, gold-dust, ostrich feathers, gums, and slaves. They number from five hundred to a thousand camels. These large caravans are called _Akaba_. I use the word Cafila as a more familiar term, and as applied to a smaller expedition. The persons composing the present one not having yet experienced much of the hardship of Desert travelling, were in great spirits. The camel-drivers and muleteers were singing and chanting verses of Arabic songs, improvised or from memory, which were answered by others more or less wittily, and drawing shouts of laughter from all within hearing. The singing encourages the camels to quicken their pace, and contributes to the gaiety, by the measured time of their bells.

About twenty hors.e.m.e.n had escorted the Cafila hitherto, but were to leave them a couple of stages further, as it is only horses trained to it from colts that can live on the Desert. Others were discussing the rumours of war between the Sultan and the Chief of the Arab tribes, which had excited in them the greatest alarm.

"By the tomb of Mulai Idris," said a little rotund fat Moor from Fez, with a florid complexion and long white beard, which his fingers were continually combing; and mounted on a tall ambling mule. "By the tomb of Idris (may his sanct.i.ty be increased!) if I had heard this news before, I would have sacrificed all the gain on these camel-loads before I would have left my shop in the Kaisaria, and then, perhaps, to lose our life also, by the hands of these blood-thirsty Arabs; who knows what is written, Allaw Kereem?" and the little man's hands kept time with his increased agitation.

"In the name of the Prophet, uncle Mohammed," exclaimed a Marocco horseman, with a long gun across the pommel of his saddle, "you cry out before you are hurt. You are rich; I am a beggar; but are we not strong enough to send a whole tribe of these Arabs (the curse of Mohammed upon them!) to their fathers' graves, if they can find them in this sea, where you may lose sight of a camel for an hour, and not find him in a month?" And laughing at his own bald wit, he turned to another horseman, who, from his northern accent and striped djilabea, the hood of which was drawn over his head, seemed to be from the neighbourhood of Tetuan; he was mounted on a raw-boned horse, like those of the ostrich-hunters, and was at the time loading his gun.

"What say you, friend? You seem prepared for work, but I trust there is no cause for fear."

The other looked up sharply at the speaker from under his hood, and went on with his occupation, saying,--

"He that despises his enemy is not wise; he that reviles a people in their own country is not wise; for sands as well as walls may have ears.

I cannot talk,--when time serves, I may act. Danger there is, but as for cause of fear,"--and he once more looked at his companion's face, which had waxed paler--"it does not seem required in your case."

The horseman, whose name was Mohammed, galled by the reproof, but not daring to resent it, drove his spurs into his horse, which plunged forward and brought him in contact with the mule's load, a projecting part of which caught the folds of his dress, causing a large rent, and exposing a belt he wore next his person. This did not escape the other's quick eye, though he appeared to take no notice. The moon was a few days old, but the light of a clear, starry sky was sufficient on these white plains, and they travelled on until midnight, when they arrived at some wells, and halted. These wells were of a great depth, and the water was drawn from them in small leathern buckets, and poured into a stone trough, the exhausted camels biting, kicking, and pushing, in their eagerness to reach the coveted fluid. As the camels were watered, their fore knees were tied up, to prevent them straying, and they were turned loose to graze, on what few th.o.r.n.y plants they could find, while the men rolled themselves in their hayks, and were soon asleep, undisturbed by the roaring of camels, the shouts of the drivers, and the confusion which lasted for hours.

At daylight the march was resumed, but the party seemed to have lost their spirits; the song was hushed, and nothing was heard but the vociferations of the drivers, urging on their beasts, while the merchants plodded on silently, their heads enveloped in burnooses and large turbans, as a protection against the sun. About noon they came to a firmer soil, and the guides gave notice that they were approaching the halting-place, while the spirits of all were exhilarated by the prospect of reaching rest and water. Yusuf remembered the warning of the Arab, indicating these wells as the place of danger. About an hour's ride ahead, they could see ma.s.ses of rock and brushwood on the plain, and when about a mile from this, the man on the spare horse rode forward to borrow a flint to put in his gun; and, whether by accident or design, it went off. A movement was now seen among the rocks, and spears and shining gun-barrels protruding above them, showed the place to be occupied.

"We are betrayed!" ran from mouth to mouth; "A signal!" "Down with the Kafir!" and they surrounded the horseman who had fired the shot. He remonstrated against their quarrelling amongst themselves, but was only met with cries of "Down with him!" "Drag him off his horse!" when, seeing they were determined on violence, he suddenly stripped off his striped cloak and turban, hurling them, with the gun he had fired, far away with his right hand, while his left held his bridle and a short double gun; his blue frock showed him to be an Arab.

"Back, slaves!" he shouted, in a voice of thunder; "I am Ali the Falcon!" and a smile of scorn was on his face, as the crowd recoiled before him, "let wisdom be with you. You thought _me_ in _your_ power--you are in mine--resistance is useless, offer none, and I pledge my word that you shall all return unharmed in person; the word of Ali el Bezz is sacred. Resist, or draw blood,--and may the curse cleave to my father's tents if every soul of this company shall not die this day!"

The crowd were panic-struck; some knew him, and all had heard of his daring deeds and wonderful escapes. The majority, who had not much to lose, were content to save their skins, but the rich merchants were loth to lose their all without a struggle, but were feebly seconded by the soldiers. At this critical moment, a band of thirty or forty hors.e.m.e.n, breaking the silence of the Desert with their united war-cry, "Allaw hu ackbaar!" their guns poised above their heads, rushed down at full speed, through a cloud of dust, on the affrighted travellers, while Ali, overlooked in the confusion, galloped out of the throng, and joined his band, who, seeing no appearance of resistance, had come to a halt.

"You should be more cautious," said Ali to his lieutenant; "not show your teeth before you can bite. You nearly sent me to heaven across the edge of a knife."

"It was not a fortunate hour, and you have escaped the houris! To keep these fellows quiet when plunder is in view, were to keep fire in a goat-skin. But, by the Prophet, we may lose our prize yet."

The score of hors.e.m.e.n belonging to the Cafila had ranged themselves in front, thinking, by a show of resistance, to intimidate the Arabs, and make terms; but these, with Ali at their head, immediately dashed forward, standing erect in their stirrups, ready to pour in a volley, but the Moors, seeing their determination, at once turned their horses'

heads and fled.

"Shame upon them!" said Ali; "they are soldiers--they are Moslem--they abandon their trust without a blow. Yes! slaves are cowards! Will they not tremble when Sheik Hamed rides to the gates of Marocco? Now mark! my word is pa.s.sed for their safety, on submission. I have other game afoot." And putting his horse to speed, he disappeared across the plain in the direction of the flying hors.e.m.e.n.

The Arabs, meeting with no resistance, dismounted, and proceeded to secure their plunder, stationing half-a-dozen pickets to prevent a surprise. The Moors and camel-drivers were stripped of everything that was of value, and the camels with merchandise were collected and made to kneel down by themselves. The Arab left in command galloped about superintending the disposal of the spoil, recommending submission and promising protection.

The old Fez Moor, finding that no one was killed, consoled himself in his fatalism, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. as he was stripped,--

"It is written! G.o.d is great! It is written!"

Others, seeing the robbers were so forbearing, were less patient, but for these a hand on the dagger was an unanswerable argument.

Yusuf had been a patient spectator of the scenes which had been enacted, but it now came to his turn, and one of the robbers approached to strip him.

"Friend," said he, "offer me no violence. I am under the protection of your Sheik Sidi Hamed Ibn Ishem. My journey is to meet him. In his name, forbear."

"Infidel dog!" said the robber, "this trick shall not save your gold; you would give a drop of blood for every copper rather than part with it. You know the reward of resistance;" and he seized the defenceless Jew.

"Stop," said another, "we may repent, if the infidel speak truth. Jew,"

said he to Yusuf, "you come alone; have you no token?"

"I have," said he, "but it is as my life; take me to your leader."

They led the way to where the Arab was resting among the bales, with his bridle in his hand.

"I have claimed the sanctuary of the great Sheik," said Yusuf; "it has been refused me. A token has been demanded of me; lo, there it is."

He took the packet from his vest, and uncovering the velvet pouch, gave it to the Arab; the man, seeing the cypher of the Sheik, immediately kissed it, put it to his forehead, and returned it to Yusuf.

"It is enough," he said; "he is our brother; give him the best mule in the Cafila, and whatever he desires. Behold! he is under the shadow of the tent of Sidi Hamed."

The news ran from mouth to mouth, and there was nothing now they were not anxious to do to serve the Sheik's guest, and his newly-acquired influence was used to intercede for some of the merchants, when he saw them too hardly used.

"Hast thou not bitten off thy tongue?" said the robber to the other who had a.s.saulted Yusuf, "better for thee, than to have reviled the Sheik's guest--the unbeliever has a big heart, make your peace."

"I am in the hands of G.o.d, Astofer Allaw," said the other.

CHAPTER VII.

THE SHEIK OF THE LION TRIBES.

Ali, who was the Sheik of the douar that had plundered the Cafila; and had gone in pursuit of the flying soldiers; soon discovered Mohammed, all alone, and urging on his fatigued horse, which had no chance of escape from the enduring animal ridden by the Arab, whose object was, not to injure the soldier, but to secure the belt he wore round his person; so that, when within fifty yards of the chase, he called out to him to stop at his peril, promising quarter on submission.

Mohammed, recognising his travelling companion, and not daring to trust him after what he had said, checked his labouring horse, and, turning round in his saddle, levelled his long gun and fired, but with uncertain aim. The Arab muttered a deep curse as his horse fell under him, and, springing to his feet before the Moor could recover his speed, he had fired with a firm footing. Mohammed reeled in his saddle, his gun and reins dropped from his weakened grasp, he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the pommel, and rolled over on the sand. The horse, missing his rider, stopped short, and stood foam-covered and panting with fatigue.

Ali, seeing his enemy fall, turned to his own horse, and a short examination showed that he would not rise again. The ball had struck his shoulder, and glanced inwards. The Arab sat down opposite his favourite, and buried his face in his hands; he thought of the many years he had stood at his tent, and the many perils from which he had saved him. He might have another, he might get a better, but it would not be the same.

The wounded animal raised his head, in a weak effort to take a last look at his master, while large tears rolled from his bright eyes down his face.

"Poor Gazelle! O my child--you want but speech. G.o.d is great! It is written!--we must part!" and he retired a few paces to witness the end of his favourite. The expiring horse made a sudden plunge to regain his feet, but fell back powerless, his bright eye filmed, a convulsive struggle came over his frame, he groaned heavily, and died.

"You are avenged," said Ali, as he walked slowly to where Mohammed was lying; "for you, your doom was just. G.o.d is great!--his curse has fallen on his own head; his money has cost him his life,--and never will _his_ children find their father's grave."